Chapter One Unexpected Visitors
by PiperNickson
Summary: This fanfiction is exploring the life of Kaidan Alenko from early childhood and through the mass effect games. Bioware owns the characters and most of the content of this fanfiction - I have taken liberty in filling in the blanks suggested through game lore and adding a bit more flesh to the bones of his story and for this I ask your forgiveness. (Rated M for later content)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One – Unexpected Visitors

Kaidan loved skive days.

Or at least that is what he had come to call them – these days where his mother kept him at home for no apparent reason and kept him in his room, or shooed him to the garden where she would watch him play in the grass from the kitchen window, her finger tap tap tapping on the ceramic rim of her coffee mug.

It was on days like this he could forget about the nightmare of state school – forget about the bullying and name calling, the teasing and the fighting and the… incidents. He didn't like to think about that stuff; his mother didn't like him to talk about it – and his dad was liable to give him a smack for mentioning it. No, on days like this Kaidan could be whoever he wanted to be: An Alliance fighter pilot, a pirate with a hook for an arm and one wooden leg, a fastidious doctor saving lives, a rock-star guitarist on his first tour. He could be all of these and for as long as he pleased, his mother rarely bothered him except to give him a meal and that horrible feeling he got never even surfaced when Kaidan was alone like this.

Sometimes it felt like something big was hiding inside Kaidan; in his chest – like a balloon and it would swell to the point he was sure he was going to burst. But it wasn't a balloon, not like at a party; whatever hid inside Kaidan was like a monster and it made bad things happen all the time. It made him hurt himself, break bones, it made things move on their own, it made his mother terrified of him. His mother had spent so long telling him he was silly, that he needed to find an outlet for his emotions that was all – but now even she looks away when Kaidan's temper begins to flare.

Sometimes his dad would take him to the Alliance headquarters, let him walk among the glass cases of old guns and medals and pictures – but he never let Kaidan speak to anyone. In fact he didn't like Kaidan being _near_ anyone. If someone else came in he would start to sweat, like he'd been having a workout, and his hand would clamp on Kaidan's shoulder like a vice, anchoring him to the ground, holding him steady while he made small talk. Kaidan was forced to listen; listen to the ramblings of two old soldiers when he would much rather be streaking down the corridor pretending he was in an Alliance Fighter Ship.

Most of the time though, Kaidan was at home with his mother. She liked to bake, and tried to tell him to keep his room tidy – but it fell on deaf ears mostly. He wanted to be a musician and it was a dream she indulged, buying him instrument after instrument and it was true he seemed to have a natural talent, mastering techniques quickly and moving onto the next one. She said the music helped to keep him calm, which to him seemed a strange thing to say – he was never angry, not really.

Kneeling in the grass with his figurines Kaidan fingered the little round stump where his soldiers arm had disconnected contemplating getting some crazy glue from the kitchen to stick him back together. He hated breaking things, his father would not be amused and it seemed to happen so often around this house.

"Kaidan!" His mother called, the kitchen window opening briefly and then closing. He glanced up at the house, then to the sky wondering if his father was home and he was being summoned for the nightly ritual of questioning. Have you been a good boy? Have you broken anything today? Did you do your chores? Did we have any _incidents_?

They say 'we' like they are all in it together but Kaidan knows that these 'incidents' are his and his alone. His father makes that perfectly clear with his lectures that follow if the answer to that question is yes.

Slowly he got up, dropping the soldier to the grass, deciding it was better for that to be discovered than to be offered up to his father's judgmental eyes. He pulled the sleeves of his red jersey over his hands, striding to the French doors that would lead him into the kitchen. It was empty, which was unusual – his mother's stained coffee mug sitting on the green countertop empty.

Running his arm over the smooth counter he glanced at the fridge longingly, but refrained – he knew too well the lectures he got about eating before dinner; but he was always hungry. The teachers at school accused him of being underfed at home – mostly due to his wiry build; but the truth was he _did_ eat. Probably more than your average 7 year old, it just didn't seem to go anywhere. His mother had been called to school numerous times about his appetite and each time she had defended herself, brining with her a list of the daily menu he had at home. The teachers told her to take him to the doctor, but she would never do that – she was too scared of what they would find.

Crossing the hallway he hovered in the doorway of the living room, glancing inside to see his mother perched on the edge of her armchair. She looked worried, her nails digging into her knees like claws as she sat with her back too straight. Her mouth was pinched, her face white as she nodded and nodded and nodded. Her bob of dark hair swinging against her jawline, which was still beautiful, with each jerked movement.

"Thank you so much for coming." She smiled, not to him – to someone in the living room with her "I just… we don't know what else to do with him."

Kaidan took a step inside the room and his mother's mouth clicked shut as she turned her dark eyes on him. He felt himself wither under the scrutiny of those eyes as they ticked from the dirty knees on his jeans to the oversized jersey she hated him wearing.

"Kaidan." She said, brightly – too brightly; it was fake, it was _wrong_. "These men are here to talk to you." She said, gesturing to the sofa. At last he turned to look.

Two men were sat, their hands resting on their knees as they both moved forward almost in unison to look at him. He shrank back, as they inspected him with their eyes: one set blue the other green. They were dressed like teachers in pressed suits and ties, and for a moment he wondered if he was in trouble – in trouble for missing school… or for the incident yesterday.

"Your mom tell us you've been getting into trouble Kaidan." One says, his face obscured by thick black beard "What's been going on?" He's a large man; the seams of his suit straining against the muscle of his shoulders and arms underneath. He doesn't look so much like a teacher as he does a wrestler posing as one. His hair is cropped short to his head and is as dark as the beard on his face. An expensive gold watch glints just under the cuff of the brown suit.

His heart began to hammer as he glanced from his mother to these men. He licked his lips, throwing a shrug out, and the man's mouth twitched.

"You can tell us, we have some experience with this kind of thing. Don't mind your mother just now; tell us what has been going on, what happened yesterday at school?" He adds and the man beside him pulls a little notebook out from his jacket, clicking a pen and pressing the nib to paper as he scribbles. This man is built smaller but is no less intimidating than the first. His pale face is all angles and planes, and his nose is pointed like a hawks. His red hair is longer, but neatly cut, with curls cupping his ears.

Kaidan looked to his mother again, but her eyes were faraway, her face turned to the window, her hand pressed over her mouth. She wouldn't look at him.

"I don't know." Kaidan offers hotly "I didn't throw it."

"You didn't throw what Kaidan?" the man with the beard persists "What happened?"

Kaidan sighed, twisting the sleeve of his jersey in his hands, round and round until he could feel the friction begin to burn the inside of his palm "She said no, the teacher wouldn't let me do goldentime; and the jar with the pens in it just… it moved on its on – I didn't throw it – I said that already!"

"Moved on its own?" The man with the pen asked, his eyebrows rising "You're sure about that?"

"I didn't throw it!" Kaidan repeated, anger beginning to build inside him. He felt that sensation. That balloon feeling as he began to swell – and the pallor of the men changed as he began to spiral toward a temper meltdown.

"Alright," The man reached forward, touching his forearm "It's alright Kaidan, we believe you." His tone was authoritative, stern – the same voice Kaidan's father used when he was getting stoked for a lecture. He replaced his hands on his knees, this time turning his eyes to Mrs Alenko as he cleared his throat.

"I think it would be best if we take him back to the clinic for tests." He said, glancing to his colleague for confirmation. The red haired man nodded, reaching forward to lift a briefcase into his lap.

"Well…" Mrs Alenko straightened in her seat, looping her dark hair behind her ears "What does that mean? Will we receive an appointment?" She asked, watching as the man unzipped the briefcase and began to pull out a sheet of paper.

The man with the beard chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling humourlessly "No Mrs Alenko. It's not that kind of clinic. We'll take the boy with us, he'll stay a week and if our tests turn up nothing he'll be back home before you know it."

Kaidan looked to his mother, almost unable to believe it as she reached forward for the form offered by the red haired man. The paper shook in her hand as she read the print, glancing all the while to Kaidan who stood mute not really comprehending that his fate was being decided between these three adults.

"Do I get a choice about this?" She asked, glancing at the men, she shook her head, her eyes filling with tears "He's just a boy; will he get to visit?"

"Those details can be decided once we have established the range of his abilities." The man said firmly "It was never going to be easy Mrs Alenko, believe me your son needs our help."

"I should collect his things." She said absently, setting the form aside on the small round end table by her seat; it housed her ball of wool – two knitting needles poked through the belly and a half eaten packet of boiled sweets; the sweets she would offer up as rewards for doing chores around the house.

She met Kaidan's eyes, offering him her hand as she passed, and he took it unsure as she led him up the stairs in silence. She dropped his hand outside his bedroom door and pushed past him into the room. It was a mess, and he froze waiting for her disdainful chiding but it never came. She picked up his rucksack, moving to his drawers and packing vests and underwear, trousers and sweatshirts. She paused as though thinking before collecting a few more items.

"Who are those men?" He asked, watching her as she crossed his room, stumbling over his toy car but righting herself again as she continued undeterred. She pushed his model plane that dangled from the ceiling aside as she collected some of his smaller toys from his dressing table.

"Those men are here to help Kaidan." She said absently, collecting his toothbrush from his bedside table "They are going to take you away for a little while. To see what is wrong with you."

Kaidan curled in on himself as he watched her. He knew there was something wrong with him, his father told him that all the time. The incidents wouldn't happen if he was normal. Zipping the rucksack closed she took his hand once more and led him back down the stairs.

This time the men were waiting at the front door for them and held out a hand, taking the bag from his mother gravely. She nodded as the red haired man produced that sheet of paper again and she took it from his fingers, turning back to lean on a stair as she signed her name on a line at the bottom of the page. Kaidan watched as she handed it over, his gut fluttering weakly as he looked from his mother to these strangers.

"I don't want to go." He said suddenly and his mother shot him a warning look he had seen that look all too often; that stern look in her eyes laced with fear. He turned to the men shaking his head "I don't want to go."

"Kaidan." The man with the beard smiled, handing the bag to his colleague as he spread his hands "Where we come from there are lots of boys and girls just like you who can do strange things. Things they don't understand. We're here to help you understand what is happening; to show you how you can control it."

He blinked as hot tears began to run unbidden from his eyes anyway "I don't want to go." He bleated, twisting the sleeve of his sweatshirt tight enough to draw blood from the reddened skin of his palm.

"You have to Kaidan." His mother said beside him "You can't stay here. Not like this. Not anymore." Her tone was cold and stung him more than any lecture his father had ever given him.

"Come on Kaidan." The man said, taking his hand which was curled around the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He half pulled him down the rest of the stairs and out the front door. Kaidan walked sullenly with him, down the garden path and to the garden gate. It was when he saw the black flight van that panic hit him. He yanked against the arm, turning back to his mother who stood in the stoop of the front door, her fingers pressed against her lips.

"I'll be good!" He screamed; tears coursing down his face as the man struggled to keep a hold of his thin wrist "I swear it! Mom! Mom! I promise! I'll be good – I'll be normal! I swear!"

Large arms came around him and he felt that swelling once more inside him, felt it bubble further than it ever had before – like a pot left to boil unwatched and he grit his teeth as he struggled to maintain control.

"Tranquilise him Anders." A voice grunted and he felt a sharp sting in the back of his neck.

That swelling halted and was replaced with warmth; a warm feeling that flooded through his muscles, making everything feel like jelly. Like when you sat on the roundabout and got spun too long and tried to walk right after. Strong arms lifted him bodily into the van, he could feel that gold watch digging into his ribs – he felt like he was flying, and when he closed his eyes they wouldn't open again.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Chapter Two – First Glimpses  
Author: Dinkymew  
Game: Mass Effect (Pre Mass Effect One)  
Disclaimer: Bioware owns all characters and content of this work – the author has taken some liberties in filling in the blanks of Kaidan's back story as suggested in the game lore and for this i ask your forgiveness. Any original characters featured are my own and are not necessarily affiliated with Bioware  
Characters Featured: Kaidan Alenko and Original Characters

"The potential is unimaginable." Dr Howe breathed, pressing ink stained fingers against her lips as beyond the reinforced glass she watched the little boy rage. He spun, the blue swirling energy of his power pooling around him like rings of smoke, but sharper – like electricity. It was beautiful.

"How long do we have him?" She whispered and her colleague beside her cleared his throat loudly.  
"The waiver allows for one week for assessment." He said thickly and she scoffed, turning from him as she began to pace in the small office. She was a striking woman, small in stature but she had ferocity about her that most found intimidating. Her red hair was pinned on top of her head and it always looked like she had been sleeping on it, loose strands here and there framing her parched, dry face. Her green eyes met his as she threw her hands up.

"A week?" She gasped "A week is nothing Daniel. To truly discover what this is we need him longer. We can't just give him back."  
"We can't just steal children Catherine." He reasoned, daring to address her by her real name. She paused, and for a moment he thought he could reach her – this shadow she had become fell away briefly and inside he could see the woman he had married. She swallowed, watching him and shook her head firmly.

"No." she said, her voice excited "But if we can find more Conatix will be forced to back the project."

"It won't bring him back." Daniel warned but she either didn't hear him or chose to ignore the comment completely, rushing behind her desk in the corner to start scribbling down notes.

It was almost a year today that they had lost their son, and since his death Catherine had been hell-bent on discovering what it was his doctor's had been unable to diagnose. What had killed him. In less than six months she had cleared her lab at Alliance headquarters setting up in the basement of their home instead, conducting her own research, her own tests. She traced hundreds of children exposed to element zero – the same mineral their son was exposed to in utero. Most, tragically like their son Robert, had died – either riddled with cancerous tumours or in strange, unexplained accidents; some had simply disappeared, but he didn't like to think about what happened to those children.

The children who had survived however showed remarkable talents – they could manipulate the area around them, move things, do things and she was determined to be the pioneer in the field. He paused, watching her as she scribbled frantically, surrounded by her binders and textbooks and charts and data – he barely recognised his wife amongst it all.

He turned back to the glass, watching the little boy as he kicked at the padded wall and screamed to the heaven's – his little face was twisted with anger, with pain, and Daniel felt every stab of it like a needle to his skin. He wanted to help him, this poor lost child whose parents couldn't understand him, couldn't fathom his potential or ability, who kept him hidden – shuttered away in his room or in the garden wherever was least likely to cause… what was it she had called them?

An incident.

"We can't keep him." He repeated and from behind him he heard Dr Howe sigh heavily.

"Anders is away getting him some food." She said, avoiding the subject he noticed "They've been practically starving the poor child. I've come to the conclusion that whatever power it is these children possess, it means they burn through a calorie intake much faster than normal children – it's almost as if their bodies take twice the amount normally required to run – it's amazing Daniel." She rambled on and he half listened to her, sometimes when she was on the verge of a discovery – however small – she would sound like the same girl he had met when he was younger. Determined, driven and unrivalled in intelligence – certainly in their university she had been. It was no wonder the Alliance had snatched her up as a researcher, but that was never good enough for her. Unless she was heading her own projects she was always unhappy.

"So what happens to him now?" Daniel asked, scratching his swath of beard "We know he's been exposed, that's obvious by looking at him. So what now?"

Catherine paused, steepling her fingers under her chin as she considered his question "I want footage of him, I want to run blood tests – I want to run neuro-scans, ability test-"  
"No." Daniel said turning to face her abruptly "No more ability tests dammit, they are too dangerous, not while we know so little about them. The last one we did the girl nearly killed herself Cathy."

She scowled at him, the look of a child who had her favourite toy removed, and slid her eyes from his to the window.  
"Fine." She growled "But I want every other test before he goes back; and you can prepare the follow-up forms, if we get approval from the Alliance and Conatix to go ahead with the project I want access to him at a later date."

She spoke like he was an animal, and that was what worried him the most – that this quest had changed its view, that the subjects had become mere pawns in the way of achieving a greater goal. They were children; they had to remember that at the end of the day.

"We can get started as soon as Asher is back." Daniel said "It would be safer to gas him first, I don't want him to hurt himself if he tries to harm us with his powers."

"Do whatever you need to." Dr Howe muttered, already not listening to him as she scrolled down a datapad, skim reading the text there and before he knew it she was swallowed up once more in her research.

Kaidan was scared. No, Kaidan was terrified.

Huddled in the corner of a white room he buried his head between his knees and fought back tears that pricked painfully close to the edges of his eyes. He wouldn't let them see him cry. He was exhausted, his energy drained from his fear and their constant demands for him to use his abilities. He didn't understand it – these people _wanted_ him to make incidents happen, they wanted him to move things.

They had poked him with needles, taking blood and depositing other liquids into him, clear fluid that made him sleepy – that made everything seem less troublesome, everything seem ok. He missed his mom and dad; even the lectures, even school – had he known he would end up here he would have tried harder.

He would have done anything.

The door to his room opened, casting a slice of light across the white tiled floor and he tensed his arms around his head in anticipation. He held his breath waiting for heavy arms to lift him from his spot, but they never came. Curious he peered out the corner of his eye but he could only see the open door, the threshold empty, and a desk beyond in the next room. Carefully he raised his head, chewing on his lip as tears began to slide down his cheeks at the thought of freedom.

"Kaidan." The voice was booming in the silence, and he was so intent on the open door he hadn't even noticed the man that was sitting on the edge of the spring bed in the corner. He flinched, his dark eyes twitching from the door to the man defensively. It was the man with the beard, the one he had seen that first day at his home; how long ago had that been now? He had no idea, time had no presence in this place, it was always dark – the corridors lit by strip lighting, the rooms filled with lamps and artificial lighting, no sun, no windows to even tell if he was still on earth.

The man had his hands folded between his knees, he wasn't in a white coat and that made Kaidan curious. He didn't look like he had needles with him, or those horrible electric sticks they poked him with when he got angry, he didn't look like he had anything on him. Cautiously he leaned back against the wall, allowing his arms to rest where they sat.

"How are you feeling today Kaidan?" He asked, scratching his beard and avoiding his eyes. Kaidan didn't answer, it was too much strain on his voice which was raw from screaming.

"We're taking you home today." The man continued "I just wanted to… to tell you thank you." He nodded as though overcoming a great obstacle "What we have learned from you will give us enough to do this properly, to open a proper clinic for children like you – where we can help. It's a long way off yet, but I hope one day we will see you again, I hope one day we can offer more help to you."

Kaidan took a careful breath, he didn't know whether to believe this man's words – most of the time adults told the truth, but the ones in this place liked to lie to him. They liked to tell him he was good for moving things; which was bad. They liked to confuse him, tell him things that were wrong were right. It was exhausting.

"My son…" The man said quietly "Was a lot like you Kaidan." He swallowed, looking off into somewhere Kaidan could not follow "He didn't understand either what was happening to him, and by the time we realised it was something that needed expertise, well… it was too late." He sighed "I hope we won't be too late to help you."

"I'm going home?" He asked, his voice paper thin and wavering as he fought to keep the emotion behind it buried deep. The man nodded, rubbing his face with his hands, and when he looked back Kaidan thought he looked tired.

"We're taking you home." The man said, a small smile touching the corners of his mouth "I know you've not enjoyed your time here, I wish it could have been more pleasant. But you should know that we have achieved great things here, and it has been with your help Kaidan."

He got to his feet wearily, raking his hand through his greasy hair and offered the boy his hand. Unsure, and nervous, Kaidan took it.

Andrea Alenko paced the kitchen tiles. She watched her feet, dressed in smart brown flats, wondering how she had not left a groove in the kitchen floor yet. Her baby was coming home. After a week in a clinic she had given him to in blind hope – he was coming home.

The thought filled her with a sea of emotions: joy, happiness, fear, trepidation.

Since he had been born Kaidan had been a difficult baby. His father had been busy in the Alliance, away from home sometimes weeks at a time, and she had been left with the sleepless nights; the writhing, screaming infant she felt helpless to comfort. Nothing she seemed to do for him was right.

It only got worse as he got older; he became distant, a silent, angry mystery behind those black eyes. He would fall into rages, uncontrollable violent rages, and when he screamed the whole house would move. Literally. Blue smoke would rise from him, like steam from his hot angry skin, snaking round him in tendrils that moved and danced as though they had life of their own. Things would move; things would break. Sometimes it was his own little bones.

For years they had tried to hide these incidents, but the couple had come under hard scrutiny from the authorities every time they took him in for treatment and explained away the injuries with the usual accidents. The worst of it was he was a very careful child, rarely ever hurt himself while he was playing. The latest warning had come from the Child Protection Service, warning them that an investigation would be launched if Kaidan received any more injuries. They were going to take him away from her, and despite everything – all his troubles and problems – she couldn't lose him. She loved him too much for that.

In desperation she had started to dig into extranet reports, surprised to find that Kaidan's behaviour, while uncommon, was not unique. There were other children out there; reports of strange things happening that sounded all too familiar, but no real leads as to what was the cause, or diagnosis. That was where she had happened along Dr Howe's work.

She was ex-Alliance, not afraid to stand up for things she believed in, and when Andrea had seen her picture she knew she was the woman to help her. Her own son had been liked Kaidan, or sounded like he had, and he had died in some freak accident. Of course she had contacted them; she would do anything just for a diagnosis – just to understand.

The sound of car outside made her clutch the apron at her waist. Wiping her hands on the white front she looped her dark curls behind her ears and rushed to the front door. She yanked it inward, squinting against the sunlight as she held her breath.

Daniel Howe was at the top of the garden path; he had introduced himself the day they had come to collect Kaidan. He looked no different, dressed in a pressed brown suit and gold tie he gave her a curt wave and a small smile as he turned back into the van for a moment. When he turned around Kaidan stepped onto the path beside him. He looked incredibly small against this bulk of a man stuffed into a suit and she felt her throat tighten with a sob. She had missed him so much.

He looked good, a little pale, but he looked like he had meat on his bones for once. He was dressed in his blue dungarees and green striped shirt, his dark hair a little longer, coming down past his ears now, the ends bending into curls like they did when it got too long. He lifted his eyes to her as they began a slow walk toward the house; they were accusatory, hard, angry and she swallowed, twisting her fingers in her hand, round and round.

"Mrs Alenko." Daniel Howe started as he got closer "He's a little tired. Might we have a word inside?"


End file.
